


Ghost

by Chantilly



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, Depression, Drama, Fluff, Healing, Hero!Wade, Life gets better, M/M, Normal!Peter, Orphan! Peter, Romance, Underage - Freeform, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chantilly/pseuds/Chantilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an unexpected moment, two worlds met. One who saw no end in his constantly painful life. The other who sees the hope of change. Their worlds collide when Wade catches Peter falling from the top of a building. And from there, things turn in a whole new direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally my first idea for a first fanfic here in this site and fandom. But it's a one-shot so I went with the other. But I can't trash this story line. I think it's worth a shot.
> 
> In this universe, there's no Aunt May and Uncle Ben so Peter's parents drop him off an orphanage. And his eyes are blue here, because of a whim. Not really, I just envisioned it that way, plus there are fics where his eyes are blue. 
> 
> Anyway! Please enjoy!

**Parker**

 

Everyday his feet touch the same cold floor of his cheap apartment as he gets out of bed. Everyday he sits on the same recluse corner of the lecture rooms at school. Everyday his body meets the impact of a locker or a wall whenever his bullies decide to have some fun with him. Every night he sits on the decrepit couch eating his meager supper that are either way too cheap or way too old. Every night he looks at his hollow reflection as he brush his teeth in the tiny bath space. Every night he curls himself tight as the evenings can get frigid especially without a heating system nor a proper blanket.

 

Peter Parker is a fifteen year old fending for himself, doing odd jobs ever since the orphanage he was left in eight years ago was shut down. The children had to be moved somewhere else. But not him. They never liked him. It was the opportunity to get rid of him; a chance they didn't miss. The people didn't like how he was too curious, smart, exuberant... full of life. He's annoying. He never got a chance to meet potential guardians – future family. Everyone leers at him. They say his parents are bad people, so he's bad too.

 

Or so they say.

 

For all the light he had, it's all reduced to a small dying flicker. The intelligence and love of knowledge he had now leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Being smart didn't have perks. He's not going to be successful. His teachers frown. His bullies laugh. His friends are nonexistent. All he has is the breath filling his lungs and the blood pumping through his veins. A possession he'll be happy to forfeit. It was never a privilege in the first place.

 

Ah, another sleepless night.

 

Blue eyes gaze up on the darkened ceiling both from the shadows and the wet stains. The lights from the bustling city outside cascade through the windows. It mesmerizes him – calling him.

 

Once again his dainty feet meet the cold floorboards continuing to walk and walk and walk...

 

* * *

 

 

**Wilson**

 

Life is full of changes.

 

He's immortal; he should know. From the transforming seasons to the highs and lows of the tides. From an infant in a cradle to an old person with a cane. Ah yes, the thrill of life is the certainty of impermanence. Why, he himself is an example of change. From a dying man to an undying killer and now an undying hero. It feels good to be needed and thanked rather than taking a life and getting paid. It was a slow and painful process to get him where he is now. But he's damn sure it was worth it.

 

Change certainly is wonderful. Well, change for the better specifically. Change is exciting. He never did believe in a day to day routine. There's always something new to look forward; to surprise you.

 

And boy, is he surprised to see someone dangerously close off a ledge of a seven story building while he's taking his nightly patrol. No one seems to notice. Well, no one _is_ there who'll notice. Risen with panic, he searches his mind for options, yet the probability of the person walking to his death is a hundred percent. No room for thinking, he enters the building and dash up the staircase as quick as his strong legs will take him and remembering the direction where the person is going to plunge to. He kicks a door open, thankfully there's no one in the godforsaken apartment room, and hurries to the window.

 

Once he gets there, he outstretches his arms catches the falling body just in time. He expected to see a startled and morbid person not someone so young with calm blue eyes. Big ocean eyes that stare up at him with fascination and a touch of surprise. Messy brown hair gently wave along the crisp autumn breeze. The boy is pale, as pale as the worn out oversized white t-shirt with a faded chubby cartoon spider printed on it.

 

At first, Wade wanted to give a serious lecture whoever it is that attempted to suicide by jumping off a building, but now that he sees the person – the child – he changes his mind and smiles. “Looks like I caught an itsy bitsy spider.”

 

It's abstract, but Wade can feel the shift.

 

Something is about to change.

 

* * *

 

 

**Parker**

 

At first there were lights... Then an echo in his mind... Then a promise... Then a horizon full of hope... Then a step...And then gravity.

 

He's falling.

 

Dropping like a silent tear from a person who gave up.

 

He isn't afraid. The prospect of plunging to his last second didn't deter him. It feels nice to feel the wind and air roar in his ears and push his back. What does it feel like to fly? To soar? For years, he never felt. He isn't happy. He's not unhappy. He's not brave. He's never scared. He doesn't get mad. He's not patient. He simply... Existed. Like ghost in the land of the living. Living life like he's half asleep. And he knows that once his back breaks against the pavement and his skull crack upon impact, he's going to wake up.

 

Because it's been an awful nightmare he's living in.

 

But when his being meets the warmth and the firm hold of strong arms pulling him snug against a broad chest and feeling the loud thumps of the other's heartbeat, his world resets. His eyes stare up at the man – his savior. The hero he never called for. Even with the peculiar mask, he can see him smile. “Looks like I caught an itsy bitsy spider.”

 

The relatively new hero pulls him back to the safety on his room as opposed to the threatening height outside. His gaze still fixing on the large man; Peter didn't even recognize the sensation of him being set back on his feet and alas, he staggers back with a small yelp only to be held once again by the older man. Heaven knows he's fighting the blush that successfully tints his cheeks. To his embarrassment, the hero chuckles but appeases him by not saying anything about it. Instead, to his mortification, he looks around the room.

 

“It's a good thing no one's at home, or else it would be weird that I barged in. Not surprised though, this place looks awful.” Deadpool nods at his observation.

 

No matter how shabby the place is, it's still Peter's home so he bravely – though meekly, replies. “I live here.”

 

He almost laughs at how the large man flinches. “Oh. Uhm. 'Awful' as in full of 'awe'. This place is awesome!” He tries to amend awkwardly chuckling and rubs the back of his head. “Sorry. I didn't know.”

 

“It's fine.” Peter gives an unsure smile as his fingertips caress the old wooden post of his small bed. “It is awful.”

 

Horrible really.

 

But it's all he had. All he has he earned with his own small hands.

 

He never quite entertained the feeling, but he's proud.

 

* * *

 

 

**Wilson**

 

To see the state of living and the state of health the other is in, it is no longer a question why the kid would jump. Yet there's still nagging in the recess of his mind to delve in the subject. He let his eyes travel to the pictures cut off and pinned or taped to a cork board hung on the wall to his left. They were photos of sceneries, still life, and portraits from magazines. There's also a photo of the latest model of camera. “You do photography?” He asks trying to lighten the mood.

 

The kid looks away and another blush powders his cheeks. Wade feels stupid for asking, the boy's obviously poor and an orphan. How could he even afford his own camera? “Sorry again.” And then he chuckles. “I'm not really known for thinking before talking. I should probably–”

 

“I'm saving money.” The younger blurts suddenly. “I... work... real hard.” He looks down to his small hands. “I'll have my own camera and...” His hands close to a fist. “I'll be a photographer.”

 

Looking at the younger more, Wade can see that he's stronger than he thinks he is. That he's not as breakable and bare as he perceives. Wade knows, that he'll never be able to divest off all the weaknesses the kid has in hopes to help him.

 

Because he can do it himself.

 

Step by step.

 

Gradually, he'll unravel himself before the world.

 

“Someday they'll see the world through my eyes.”

 

And they will all bask in his magnificence.

 

* * *

 

 

**Parker**

 

He's never slept better than that night.

 

It's a wonder how a pat on his head, and a simple wish of 'Good night' can give him the best dreams. Didn't even recur to him that he almost killed himself without knowing by walking off the edge of his apartment building. The floor didn't feel as cold as he remembered. And the sun seem to shine brighter than it ever had.

 

It is a good day.

 

He pads across his tiny living space to go the the bathroom when a box wrapped in a metallic red paper with a white ribbon catches his eyes. Cautiously, he walks towards the surface of the drawer it's resting on. With shaky hands he pulls the ribbon and proceed to unwrap it. He chokes a sob when the box reveals that inside is a brand new camera. Opening the box, he sees a letter inside perched on top of the object:

 

_'Let me see the world through your eyes now. – Wade'_

 

And finally he lets out his tears and cries happily as he embrace the gift. He's never had a gift. He's forever in his debt. He saved his life in more ways the hero can imagine.

 

“Thank you...”

 

It is a good life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

** Wilson **

 

The crowd cheers around him as he saved the city once again from grave peril. It feels good to be finally loved. To be the good man Wade aspires to be. But all the glory the world could offer is incomparable to the blue eyes that stare at him from the distance. Eyes that look at him with such admiration that even the most loyal man of God appear unfaithful. It's been a few years since their first and last encounter and ever since then, Wade has been dropping of gifts and other forms of aid to the struggling boy without showing himself of course. He sees the photographs the younger leaves and he's amazed at how beautiful they are. Seeing those always made his gift giving much more worthwhile.

 

He only stopped when one day he sees the young man slowly getting by better and better, he's still struggling, but not as much.

 

Wade figured that he would appreciate it more if he didn't spoil him as much as he did. He's a strong kid. But he never stopped watching over him. The only reason Wade didn't attempt to get any closer is that it didn't look good for a grown man like him to linger with someone clearly underage. He doesn't have malicious intent of course, but society and especially the media will think otherwise.

 

So for years he kept their distance.

 

But as those years pass, that distance grew shorter and shorter. 

 

Those eyes drew him until no one else existed other than him and the younger man. He gently pushes pass the media and flock of fans to walk over to the person he's been aching to get close to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

** Parker **

 

Peter never did believe in guardian angels nor even a god. But he did believe in people and that they can be good. When he was fifteen, he met Wade Wilson, the city hero. He saved him when he was falling and pulled him back to his small home. And ever since then, he's been receiving anonymous help. Nothing exceptionally grand, but they were helpful. Food, books, clothes – never money nor materialistic luxury. And he's more than thankful for that. He never sees when the gifts are dropped off; Either at his doorstep or in his room.

 

His gratitude he expresses by leaving photographs he took to show the man that his help is not for naught. He's doing exceptionally good in school. He's currently a scholar in the nearby university and works part-time for a local paper as a photographer. What he loves about his job is that he's the one taking photos of his – their – hero. 

 

To see him being showered by praises and homage fills him with bliss because he deserves every worship he gets. Wade is a good man. Without him, Peter Parker would've been a name that will appear on the paper once and then forgotten the next day. All he is, is because of that man.

 

If he can have one wish, it would be to see the other man up close and not behind a camera lens nor printed paper.

 

And Wade never fails to give what his heart wants.

 

 

* * *

 

 

** Parker-Wilson **

 

The loud cheers of the crowd dies when their hero approach an unknown young man. Deadpool studies the person before him. The kid grew taller, but he's still almost a head above him. To his satisfaction, he's not as skinny as he was. He grew up wonderfully and healthy and Wade couldn't help the smile. Those eyes gaze are the same as it was when he caught him that fateful night. “You do photography?” he nods at the camera the other is holding.

 

Peter grins and stares at the his feet for a moment and then peers up under his lashes at the taller man. “In my spare time, yeah.”

 

“You any good?” Wade steps forward.

 

It took a lot for the photographer to not yield at the closer proximity, “I've won quite a few small time competitions.” He shrugs coolly.

 

Wade couldn't help the fond laughter from bubbling and lets it out. He can feel the crowd around them becoming curious and honestly, he doesn't care anymore. “You know...” A step closer. “I once caught an itsy bitsy spider.” He lifts the bottom half of his mask and his smile widens when those blue eyes glittered with fascination once more.

 

Peter can only let out a small, “Yeah?”

 

Wade nodded once though full of enthusiasm, “Uh-huh. He wanted to be a photographer.” His hands pull the other's wrist pulling him a step forward closer to him.

 

“A little spider can't have dreams.” The younger challenges.

 

“Indeed.” Peter frowns making the taller man chuckle, “But you know what? I saw he wasn't fucking around with that dream of his. He was working for it. Says he'll show everyone the world through his eyes.” Wade looks up at the sky. “Sadly, most of the photos I saw are of me. I thought I was going to see the world.”

 

Peter stares up at the sky too, it's a cloudy day. Quiet and peaceful. Bright. And then his gaze falls to the man a little too close to him. His skin is heavily scarred; grotesque even. But it's not pushing him away. It's sparking his inquisitive nature. “Do you wanna know why most of his photos are of you?” 

 

Wade regards his look back down to him and find themselves almost nose to nose. The younger man's eyes are moist and his face red. He's becoming undone and Wade cups the other's cheeks with both hands to lend comfort and safety. Just like he did when he caught him in his arms. “Yeah, but I have an idea.” 

 

Peter couldn't reply anymore because all the emotions he's been keeping at bay are surfacing. He had to grip the other man's forearm and wrist to ground him also fearing that this will all go away. Too caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the man say, “Is it because of this?” Imagine his shock when he feels those scarred lips descend down upon his in a soft press. A chaste kiss.

 

For a moment, he feels like falling again. And like last time, he let himself drown in the sensation.

 

Wade pulls back a few seconds later and sees the fragility from the other ebb away. A bright smile slowly makes its way on the other's young features and his eyes open looking straight at his. He never gets tired of that beautiful face. “Does my little spider have a name?” Wade asks leaning his forehead on the younger's.

 

“Peter... Peter Parker.”

 

“Nice to meet you. I'm Wade Wilson, forever at your service.”

 

 

He believes that change is inevitable. 

 

For instance, Peter's last name might change in the future. An amusing thought, but he always wanted to really settle down. His relationships never lasted long. But his gut feeling tells him differently this time. He's sure; heck, he's seen his gut! And it doesn't lie.

 

But change, no matter how apparent, is not ever present.

 

There are things that will never change. And like how gravity will always pull you down to the core, he will never stop being drawn to Peter. 

 

It's abstract, but Wade felt the shift.

 

Everything changed the moment he caught the boy who wasn't supposed to live another day.

 

Day in and Day out he saw him unravel into someone he's always meant to be. He's proud of him.

 

All he can do now is see everything through those eyes.

 

And bask in his magnificence.

 

Because from that moment on, he became Peter's world...

and him as his.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For some inexplicable reason, Wade never knew Peter's name all those years haha. Let this author have her drama and cheesiness. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!


End file.
